


boot scootin' boogie

by ladywithalamp



Series: ramblin' man [2]
Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Branch Has Feelings, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Murder, Line Dancing is Hard to Write Guys, M/M, Secret Relationship, Undercover As Gay, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladywithalamp/pseuds/ladywithalamp
Summary: While undercover for a joint operation case with Cumberland county deputies, Branch and Walt get a chance to cut a rug and, maybe, catch their killer.
Relationships: Branch Connally/Walt Longmire
Series: ramblin' man [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052243
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	boot scootin' boogie

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Riding](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2125914) by [Deviant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviant/pseuds/Deviant). 



> One of a number of fics that came to mind over this past week, this was just a really fun excuse to write Branch dancing because we never see him doing it in the show. Walt we do, but he looks about as enthusiastic as a wooden board, and I choose to believe it was because he was FORCED to dance, rather than wanted to. I have it on good authority from a number of friends that Southern boys know how to dance, so here we are. 
> 
> P.S. Though though song wouldn't have come out during the show, I imagine they're dancing to Midland's Mr. Lonely and then whatever slow song you could have in mind. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Absaroka and Cumberland counties seemed to have their fair share of problems, but never the kind that involved deputies undercover at a raging bar and dance hall where their most recent victims had last been seen dancing together. 

All men, ranging in age, dumped at various points throughout the two counties. It was as disgusting as it was confounding, but they had high hopes about the things they could find out here. Namely, who was doing the killings? Absaroka had offered their support for multiple reasons, but chief among them was the fact that they wanted the killings to stop before more people got hurt. 

Branch Connally stretched out his legs and sipped at his beer, eyes roaming around the dance floor. They had been here most of the night. Most people had seen them all come in together, so it wasn't any hindrance. Ferg and Vic were walking back hand-in-hand, laughing, playing it up. Walt was sprawled out in the chair beside him, fingers clutched around a bottle of beer. 

"Cumberland deputies bumped into us in the middle of the dance floor," Vic said as she collapsed into the chair a table over, feet propped up on the chair across from her. "Said they haven't seen anyone that fits a possible description of our killer dancing with anyone." 

Branch grunted. That had been expected. None of their other leads had panned out like that. The information they had had come from a number of witnesses from this bar and another handful. This was the last one they'd been tasked to stake out, but nothing had come of the others. No one could agree on what the man looked like, just that he'd been there and that he'd made the regular patrons uncomfortable. He had never danced, never seemed to drink, but he was there the whole night. 

Taking a swig of his beer, Branch leaned forward and set it down in the middle of the table and stood, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and unbuttoning the first few buttons on his shirt. "I got an idea." He held out his hand to Walt, head tilted so the sheriff was the only one that could see his face and the challenge there. For a moment, Branch didn't think he would take him up on the offer. 

When Walt stood, Branch heard Vic's feet fall to the floor in shock. 

"Walt doesn't _dance,_ Branch. What the hell are you doing?"

"And how do you know that, Vic? Just 'cause he doesn't go dancing, that we know of, don't mean he doesn't know how. He grew up in Wyoming, just like I did. Just like Ferg did. We _all_ know how to dance."

A faint smile curled around Walt's mouth and he shook his head, a hand coming up to fix his hat before slipping into Branch's easily. "Just keep an eye on anyone that comes close, Vic." The blonde nodded, still dumbstruck, but Ferg had fished his phone out, subtly pointed toward the dancefloor. 

Walt and Branch sauntered toward the dance floor--Branch with a bit of a bounce in his step, acting like he'd finally gotten his partner to agree to a dance--nearly in place when a familiar song came on, one that had the younger man grinning from ear-to-ear and Walt groaning quietly. "You did this on purpose," he groused, only loud enough for Branch to hear as they stepped together into the dance. Branch's hand, still clutched in Walt's, tugged him a bit closer as they sidestepped to the right, kicked out their legs, Walt reeling him in while Branch rolled his hips out in a circle, the swell of his ass in these jeans pressing into Walt's hip as they swung around in a tight circle.

"Maybe I just wanted to dance with you," he said, loud enough for Walt to hear as he took his hat off, flipped it up, and caught it with a wink tossed toward Vic and Ferg for good measure. "Since we gotta drive four towns over before people don't recognize us." At least here they had the pretense of working undercover to be dancing this close together, hip to hip, hands intertwined. 

Walt grunted against his back but didn't say anything. Branch tilted his head back to get a look at his face and was given a small smile for his trouble before the sheriff's eyes moved back to where he'd been staring. Lolling his head forward again, he saw that they had an audience. 

The man was leaned up against the far wall across from them clad in jeans and hat pulled low, though Branch caught a glimpse of half his face. "We can tell Vic and Ferg after the song's up. I wanna finish this one at least."

"Maybe one more. Just to make sure he's a viable suspect." His free hand wrapped around Branch's hip and squeezed before siding his hand into his front pocket, much to the younger man's chagrin. He hid his smile by ducking his head, grabbing the brim of his hat with his hand as they rocked back on their heels, stomped their feet, and sidestepped to the left.

That song ended with a flourish and a collective whoop from the dancefloor as everyone clapped before lining back up with their partners for the next song. 

It happened to be a slow one. 

Branch swallowed thickly when Walt grabbed him by the hand, the other snaking around his waist, and spun them in a circle, pressed together from thigh to shoulder. Carefully, as though he was hesitant around all these people (not necessarily a lie, though he'd never admit it), Branch lay his head against Walt's shoulder.

He told himself it was just for the case, just so he could keep an eye on the man leaned up against the wall without appearing obvious, but as he pressed his nose into the juncture between Walt's shoulder and throat he knew that was a bald-faced lie. 

It was nice to be able to do this, just once, in a place they both knew. Even if it was supposed to be pretend. That song would end and so would their little charade, or so every other deputy in this place would think. None of them had any idea or, at least, none that Branch could tell. And that was fine by him for the most part but some days, like today, he _wanted._ Wanted so much that it made his chest ache and his throat tighten. 

Walt squeezed his hand and Branch picked his head up just in time to be spun out, surprising a laugh out of him, hand flying to his hat to make sure it didn't fly off into the crowd. The song ended on that note and the pair turned back to their coworkers, one of Walt's hands shoved in Branch's back pocket.

Two faces wore twin facial expressions of shock and awe, though Vic's was particularly memorable. Branch almost wished he had it on camera. "I told you he could dance, Vic. Ye of little faith," Branch said with a shake of his head, mock disappointment taking over before he slid back into his seat with a smug grin, hidden quickly when Walt handed him his beer before sliding into his own seat.

The chair legs scraping against the floor made Branch glance over, brows raising in question, only for Walt's hand to land on his thigh. Out of sight from Vic and Ferg, he knew their _friend_ could see it from where he had positioned himself. Branch smiled slightly before glancing back over his shoulder to find Vic and Ferg with their heads bent over a phone. 

"There's a guy somewhere in that video leaned up against a wall, dark hat, jeans, and a long sleeve. Paisley print, maybe? He was watching us the whole time." 

"We'll look but where the _hell_ did you learn to dance like that Branch?" 

"Practice?" 

"I'm serious. That was...really good."

Branch tipped his hat toward her, a small smirk on his face, and Vic rolled her eyes but she grinned back before leaning over to talk to Ferg under her breath. The pair glanced over at him and Walt a few times but never said anything and he didn't pay them any mind. 

His fingers were laced with Walt's beneath the table, his other hand holding onto the neck of his beer bottle. They'd be here for an hour or so longer. From Vic's comment, he knew the Cumberland county deputies would be told about him within the next few minutes. They'd linger, maybe see if they can draw him out somewhere, and then go from there. 

For now, he was going to enjoy the feeling of Walt's hand in his. It was the little things, as the saying went, and Branch was going to enjoy them for as long as he could.


End file.
